I would like to say that beauty points to truth, but that, like everything else that is not ultimate, that is to say, God, it can become an idol… another area wherein we deify ourselves or our likes, instead of allowing what is good around us to direct us to the Good.
Could Keats have gotten it wrong? Is it really so that truth is beauty and beauty truth? Might there have been some irony up his sleeve in linking the two?
Read it all: More Fragments on a Motif